“Ten pounds, you said?” Lady Matheson asked, ignoring her and looking at Iris. “What does that get one?”

“In the cases of our now mythical female customers, our efforts to find them a suitable husband,” said Iris, sitting behind her desk.

“How does that fee work out per hour?”

“It varies,” said Iris. “We’re up to nine weddings now.”

“And several promising relationships,” added Gwen.

“I see,” said Lady Matheson.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her purse.

“For your lost time,” she said, placing two five-pound notes on Iris’s desk.

“Oh, Patience,” protested Gwen. “We can’t possibly—”

“Yes, we can,” said Iris firmly, taking the notes and stuffing them into her top drawer.

“But Iris—”

“Think of Cecil and all the other little mouths to feed,” said Iris.

“Fair point,” conceded Gwen.

“I thought your son’s name was Ronnie,” said Lady Matheson.

“It’s a private joke,” said Gwen.

“All right, you have our time and attention,” said Iris. “Let’s talk. I take it you’re not here to find a husband.”

“No, I’ve got one already,” said Lady Matheson. “He’s out in the country somewhere, I’m not sure which place. Probably in Scotland, blasting birdshot into unarmed pheasants.”

“While you get to suffer through the London summer with us,” said Gwen.

“I will be joining the royal family when they go to Balmoral,” said Lady Matheson. “Might even bump into Lord Matheson if he’s not too careful, but I have an errand or two to run before I do. I was having tea with Emily Bascombe on Monday and your names came up.”

“Oh, how is Em?” asked Gwen. “We heard she’s in the family way.”

“Glowing and voracious,” said Lady Matheson. “She mentioned that the two of you met at her wedding.”

“Essentially,” said Iris. “That was when we became friends.”

“She takes indirect credit for your decision to start up this odd little business. She told me that you, dear cousin, were responsible for bringing her and George together.”

“I planted some seeds that took root and bloomed quite nicely,” said Gwen.

“And that you, Iris—may I call you Iris?”

“Certainly.”

“That you did some digging into George’s background at Emily’s request.”

“There were some rumours that needed debunking,” said Iris. “I was able to make some satisfactory enquiries.”

“And you both put your talents to use in solving the La Salle murder. We were all quite abuzz about that.”

“Have you brought us another murder to solve?” asked Iris.

“Oh, dear,” Gwen sighed. “I’m still not over the first one.”

“No, no.” Lady Matheson laughed. “This is more in your line. But before I go any further, I need to ask for your assurances that everything we discuss from this point on will be absolutely confidential.”

“Of course,” said Gwen immediately.

“Hold on a tick,” said Iris. “You do understand that we are not legally entitled to make those assurances.”

“But Iris—” began Gwen.

“Gwen, you remember how well our protests of client confidentiality went over with Detective Superintendent Parham when he came barging in here with his bully boys. Lady Matheson, if you are here to discuss any criminal matters—”